


Mine Tonight

by Taruyison



Category: Prototype (Video Games)
Genre: Because They Just Couldn't Handle This Shit, Canon Compliant, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Deleted from FanFiction.Net, Explicit Language, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-neutral Reader, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mild Gore, No Plot/Plotless, No Romance, Or Is It?, Platonic Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Reader-Insert, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tags Are Fun, The Author Regrets Nothing, human!reader, i'm excited, this might be the best smut I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:21:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16072526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taruyison/pseuds/Taruyison
Summary: Alex Mercer x Reader smut/lemon one-shot.





	Mine Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I did my best to avoid any gender roles but my writing isn't perfect. If there's anything I can do better, comment! It's supposed to feel gender neutral.

It's late in the afternoon and you're sitting on a bench in the middle of Central Park. The sun is about to set, putting a beautiful orange glow to the sky in the west. You came out here to watch the sunset, as you've had some rough couple of days. You needed someplace calm to just relax. This was the perfect place, you realized after walking for a few minutes. Some birds are still up and chirping and in the distance you can hear a dog barking. Probably chased up some cat in a tree, you think. News reporters have been urging people to stay inside due to this 'new threat' that's showed up lately. Some kind of sickness that the doctors can't find any reason for or cure to. You frankly don't believe it. It sounds superstitious to you, so you've ignored the warnings. It's a beautiful sunset after all, and you won't let some superstition keep you from it.

As you sit there lost in your own thoughts, a loud noise reach your ears. It sounds like metal crashing into and scraping against something hard and rough. You turn your head to see what is going on behind you, but before you can, something crashes down just a few meters to your left. You cover your eyes and cough as whatever just landed whipped up dust and dirt in your face. Holy hell, did a meteorite just crash into earth? You hear shouts and people whistling further away. As you look toward it, you see men in military uniforms running toward the scene with their rifles at the ready. One of them is barking orders at the others to form a line and a lot of other military terms that you're not familiar with. What the hell are they doing here?

Movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention. The dust have almost settled, and in the midst of it is ... a man..? A man just fell from the sky?! He created a fucking crater! That simply **can't** be right. What the hell is going on?!

You shake your head in hopes that this all is just a dream, but the man is still there, and he's now standing up. He hasn't spotted you yet, but you've certainly spotted him. He's wearing a black jacket on top of a gray hoodie, dark blue jeans and black sneakers. His skin is pale and stained with blood. It's everywhere. His face, his hands, his jacket.  The crater and the ground around it is completely drenched. You can't do else but stare as he clutches his arm and grunts in pain. _'How is this guy not dead?'_ is the only thing you can think about.

Finally he tuns to you. Something changes in those ice blue eyes. You can see that he grinds his teeth before opening his mouth to speak. "Run" is the only thing he says before darting off in the opposite direction to where he came from. He's gone before you can wonder where he's headed. What the actual fuck just happened?

 

 

You're on your way home. It's been an exhausting week, and even at the one place where you thought you could find peace, someone or some **thing** had disturbed you. You wonder if maybe the universe just hates you above all else. Maybe the world has something against you and want you to suffer. There are a few people who hate you, but at least they're being discreet about it.

You tilt your head back to look up at the sky. "What do you want from me?!" you shout to no one in particular. As you do, the first out of many hundreds of raindrops hit your face. You sigh deeply. This day just keeps getting better... It's still a long way home, and there isn't any rest stops on the way, so either you run or not you'll still get soaked. You decide to just shove your hands deep into your pockets and resume walking.

 

 

It's almost twenty minutes until you're back home again. The sigh that escapes you as you unlock the door is heavy. You're soaked to the bone, cold to the point where your hands are shaking and teeth clattering, and more tired than you were when you first decided to head out. Even if it wasn't dark outside already, you'd still walk right up to the bed and bury yourself under the covers. You realize you'll need to get out if these clothes first if you don't want to catch a cold. But what does it matter? If you get a cold at least you'll have a reason to stay at home and pity yourself.

You open the door and is hit by the familiar scent that is home. Your home. Warmth and comfort are calling you to the kitchen where you prepare a delicious meal for only yourself to enjoy. It's your favorite soup that you gulp down in just a few minutes. That is so much better. With a full stomach, you can finally think about other things, such as getting these clothes off and taking a hot - very hot - shower.

You proceed toward the bathroom, but stop dead in your tracks as you spot a shadow further down in the hallway. The lights are off so you could very well be hallucinating, but that shadow is definitely not supposed to be there. Where did it come from and why is it here? Shit, what if it's a thief or a murderer now wanting to kill you for seeing their face?! You haven't seen their face yet though, so maybe there's still chance. Maybe they will spare your life if you avoid looking.

"Quite a place you got here" the shadow suddenly says. His voice is dark, a little raspy and hoarse. It scares you out of your wits, but at the same time you feel a strange kind of attraction to it. You want him to speak again so you can drown in that voice. Make him speak so you can store it in your memory for all eternity.

Your brain quickly puts an end to your thoughts by reminding you that this could be a murderotic killer. You grit your teeth. "How did you get in here?" you ask. The shadow shuffles in its place and moves just a little closer to your position. It puts your nerves on edge.

"You left the door open" he responds casually. You can see the shrug of his shoulders even in the dark. You remember quite clearly that you closed and locked the door when you got in here. You decide not to comment about it however.

"Well, how did you find me? No one ever comes to this place. Especially not people like-"

"I followed you".

Now your blood turns to ice in your veins. He'd followed you all the way to the door, and now he was out to kill you after robbing you of all your dearest possessions. Who was this guy? Why would he want to harm you? Why would life be so cruel to you? At least your last day on earth could've been peaceful, but nooo. Just throw everything you got, life. Yea, fuck you too. 

"You know I can call the police, right?" you say slowly, testing. Tension and uncertainty is clear in your voice, and the man is certain to notice it. If he's here to kill you, why hasn't he already? Why didn't he take the chance while you had your back turned? Why is he taking such time? Maybe he gets a thrill from scaring his victims before brutally murdering them in cold blood. You couldn't understand why someone would do such a thing.

The shadow shifts and seemingly shrugs again. "But you won't" he says. You take a step back at this, gulping down the heavy lump in your throat. The blood is curling in your veins, adrenaline filling every part of your body. It's a delightful rush of confusion mixed with complete and utter terror. He's right. It intrigues you as much as it scares you. You don't want to call the police. You want to hear him speak. You want to drown in that gravely murmur.

For about two seconds, you close your eyes and rub a hand over your face. What in the world are you thinking? You're going mad. Of course you should call someone. A man that you don't know and have never before has just barged into your apartment like he owns the place. He has no right to do such, and he will go to jail for it. You need to get your phone. This guy will disappear from your life forever.

As you open your eyes again, ready to turn on your heel, the shadow of a man is suddenly up in your face, a wicked grin on his lips. You yelp, startled, hand flinging out to slap him, push him away, punch him, anything to get him away from you. He catches it easily, the grin fading into a smirk. His breath hits your face, warm and soft. The hand that isn't holding yours suddenly lands on your stomach, trailing upwards. His icy blue eyes flicker down to your chest about at the same time as his hand reach there.

Your mind is a mess. White explosions, juddled thoughts, comical riddles, and overall just a jumbled, blurry mess. Super-awareness overwhelms you. His hands are so warm - almost hot - against your body. They seem to burn through your clothes, wet as they are. You can't hold the soft whimper from escaping through your lips.

You open your eyes - _when had you closed them anyway?_ \- to meet his blue. They lack all feelings they should have. It's almost like looking at the face of a doll with eyes made of glass. He isn't showing a thing. Or maybe you're just not looking right. He must be feeling **some** thing, right? He simply couldn't be feeling _nothing_ as he stood towering over you like a hungry lion about to devour its prey.

Suddenly your shirt is ripped clean through at the front. You gasp, eyes wide as he pulls you in close to himself with an arm wrapped around your waist. His hot breath washes over your face barely half a second before his lips grace over your throat. It sends a shiver down your back. Body heat is radiating off of him. Too hot. No one would be so warm without having a fever or some other macabre disease.

A hand on your ass make you gasp out a moan. Your own hands grasp mindlessly for something to cling to. At an intake of breath you can smell the leather of his jacket that you're holding. Subconsciously you pull him closer. His response is to push you backwards up against the wall. Your mind is racing. Nothing makes sense anymore. Everything is either jumbled or gone, and it doesn't even matter to you. All you know - the only thing you care about - is the heat from the man and his hands ravaging over your body.

His lips - _oh holy shit, his lips_ \- trail hot kisses down your throat, sending delightful shivers down your spine. When a hand is suddenly pressing against your front, you gasp. He's touching you in places you haven't been touched in for a very long time. A row of emotions races through your mind. There's disgust, shock, confusion, fear, but also excitement and a few more emotions you can't put your finger on. It all crashes together inside your head. Everything fades. "Mnaah-" is the only thing you can manage. It was intended to be a _'stop'_ or maybe a _'what are you doing?'_. But apparently this man was taking away your ability to speak.

He pushes against you, pressing you up against the wall. His crotch grind against yours, pulling strangled moans from the both of you. "Bed" he demands, voice completely steady. How is he not the slightest affected? You stand breathless, only barely able to nod toward the bedroom. Before you know it, he's taken you hostage. He's holding your hands behind your back with a steady grip, his other hand covering your mouth. It makes your heart skip a beat in fear, but there's also a warmth spreading in your chest.

He leads you to the bed so slowly. Too slowly, and you can **_feel_** the grin on his face as you struggle in his grasp. Why can't he just go along with whatever the fuck it is he has planned? You wish he would just kill you already. Or has he decided to rape you before stealing all of your possessions and **_then_** killing you? If such was the case, at this point it wouldn't be much of a rape... _Cough._

You're practically thrown at the bed, face down, and by the time you've turned to your back, he's standing on all fours over you. His face quickly disappears from your view as he peppers your throat with more of those burning kisses. You're quickly breathless again, only for a second wondering how the hell you're agreeing to this. You should struggle against him, try to get away and make sure to sue him for anything and everything you could possibly sue him for. But again, you don't want to.

His kisses turn to nibbles as he makes his way to your chest, encasing one of your nipples with his lips. It takes your head for a spin. His heat, his hands and his lips. It's intoxicating. Delightful shudders shoot down your spine. The adrenaline hasn't stopped performing its magic. Quite the opposite - it has turned into dopamine, filling your brain with all kinds of fuzzy.

You whine as he stops giving attention to your body. He inspect you with those icy eyes, and suddenly you can see emotion in them. They're licking you up, eating you dry and devouring you whole. A hungry predator, and it just turns you on even more. Breathless and unable to speak you writhe beneath him. A grin spreads on his lips. He's enjoying every moment of your struggle, you can see that all too clearly. Once again your hand flies out, but like last time he catches it without even looking. _'Just fucking get to it already'_. Fucking **please**.

As if he's read your thoughts, he reaches down to practically rip your zipper open. The jeans are ridden of within the second, then he drags his hands over his own clothes. Your hazy eyes drink up the view. You don't even need him to undress, you can already see the toned muscles and pale skin in front of you. A tongue draws along his teeth - _are those fangs?_ \- as he looks you up and down greedily.

You clutch the sheets - he probably won't appreciate you pawing at him like one of those horny sluts. Or would he..? Was it worth testing the limits? You could quite literally die. He could have a knife in his back pocket and shove it into your gut or slit your throat. You quickly realize that you don't care. You'll be glad to die by this man's hands.

He reads your mind again and slaps both hands down on your shoulders, pressing you down onto the bed. His grin is once again wicked, but you barely catch a glimpse of it before he leans down and mashes his lips onto yours. It's sickening. He brings you into an indescribable, inescapable high. You float through the clouds and above. Whatever his reason was for entering your apartment without invitation is neither important nor remembered. The world has faded and it's just you and him.

You gasp and pant as he pull away only enough to give you space to breathe. His forehead and nose is pressed against yours. Something touching your thighs makes you flinch, but the feeling is quickly lost to you as he kiss you again. It hot, rough and sloppy, but oh so intoxicating. The feeling slowly slithers upwards - warm, soft and light as a feather. You want it. What this man does to you, you want it all.

His hands find your knees, slips under them and pulls your legs out from under him. He leans down, grinding his crotch into yours and you moan into his mouth. He let out a growling purr as he breaks contact, and suddenly he's unclothed. Or as far as the term of 'half naked' goes. You don't bother to question why - you just drink up the sight of the man now clothed in just jeans and a classy white button-up. Your hands make haste to unbutton it, and he doesn't complain or stop you. If anything, he just grins even wider.

"You" he says suddenly, again steady on his voice. You fumble with thoughts and hands. What is he saying? What you and why and where? What?

"Wha-"

"Mine" he says, breaking you off. It makes another shudder shoot down your spine. His. You taste it in your mind - you being his. It feels incredibly and inevitably _**right**_. You want to be his. You have no idea who he is, but you can't find a reason to care. You're his. Tonight, all night.

"Be mine tonight" he purrs, confirming your thoughts. It makes you moan in anticipation. Maybe you're able to press out an obedient _'yes'_ , but what does it matter? You have a feeling that he will claim you either you answer or not, and he will do it even against your will. What will? You're his, and you don't have a say. His word is your law, and you won't hesitate a second to obey.

His chuckle is possibly the sexiest thing you've ever heard. The rumbling gravel is music to your ears, and it makes the warmth in your chest spread and increase. It's sickening. _**He**_ is sickening. At your mind's current state, he looks and smells and feels like pure perfection. He could be a god sent to earth. He is divine. So handsome, so amazing, so perfect.

"Mraahh-!" you gasp as something hot touch your unclothed crotch. When did you even lose that anyway? It didn't matter - you were just relieved to be touched. Your hands clutch sheets again and your eyelids fall close. His touches will surely take you to the seventh heaven. All your doubts and insecurities are lost with the wind. All you know is his touches. His own crotch is also nude, but apparently he's fond of those pants. Maybe _**he**_ has insecurities? No, he's more probably just eager. He seemed too tough and sucked up to have any form of insecurities.

Lips are on yours and you can feel him probing you. It makes you writhe and gasp into his mouth. You want this - oh fuck do you want this. **_Fucking hell yes._**

The man is incredibly good at reading your mind. You barely finish the thought before the probing turns to invading. He pushes gently, softly, slowly. Too fucking slow and you want him to just slam right in. You forget how to breathe. He groans and pants into your ear. Hot tongue traces the shell of your ear, making you shudder and moan. You can't anymore move. The intrusion is hot - oh so hot - and so awaited. More groans and nibbles at your ear, throat and shoulder makes everything feel like a bliss. It's as if he has taken you into the ultimate sex dream you never even knew you had.

He's suddenly as deep as he can get, and he pants and gasps, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. You shudder, moan and writhe. It feels so good, so right and you feel so **full**. And yet you want more. Everything, anything - just more.

Movement in the corner of your eye snaps your attention. Protruding from his back and shoulders are slim, slithering tendrils - little snakes writhing just as much as you are. You know that you should be terrified by this. You should scream and push him away. What you're seeing is unnatural. But instead, your hands find their way to greet the little strands. They twitch at your touch, but the man moans breathlessly and you watch them slither around your fingers and hands.

He pulls back, out of you, growling. It's terrifyingly similar to the growl of a large feline. The thought cross your mind, but you're too busy trying to remember how to breathe and clinging to him as if your life depend on it. It just might. The push back inside is agonizingly slow. _When, why, how, where, what, wh-_

Everything is a blur. You can't think anymore, even less speak, and the only thing that comes out of your mouth is moans, gasp and made-up curses. This man is so goddamn rich of himself and you want to whack him in the head with a baseball bat. But you're his. His will is your will and his words are your laws. Whatever he says you will obey, and whatever he does you will agree. His demands are your most important tasks. You want to satisfy him. If the slow pace is what he wants and demands, you will accept. You will obey.

"Mine" he growls, pulling out roughly and slamming back inside before you have time to blink. You claw at his back, trying to catch your breath. You lose grip of your mind. Nothing is more important than pleasing him. His hot breath, rough touch and raspy groans sets your body ablaze. His arms wrap around your waist and you know before he even has a proper grip that you better hold on, because the roller coaster is about to take off.

Your moans scramble together, bodies melting into one and hands clutching tightly to each other. Pure bliss overwhelms you as he picks a pace that makes your brain explode. It's a speeding train threatening to derail and crash. His thrusts are brutal and you're suddenly aware of how fucking enormous he feels inside of you. When his teeth dig into the muscle tying together your shoulder and neck, you can't even feel the pain. There's just bliss and absolute euphoria. He groans and growls like a ferocious beast.

He hasn't even touched you and you're already racing closer. The little tendrils have replicated and formed a delicate web around various parts of your body. Their touch is like fire on your skin. It burns deep into your memory and will forever be ingrained - you have no doubts about that. Moaning, gasping, panting, whining, sheeting. All you can do is clasp, claw and fumble. Closer and closer he takes you, and he's doing it so fucking _**hot**_.

"AH- I- Fwuchh-!" you push as you figuratively stand on the edge of complete and utter blissful euphoria. He growls, movements becoming spasmic and less controlled. He stands with you. You hold on - don't want to let go yet. He's too good. You don't want him to finish, up and leave. You want him forever with you, as close as possible and maybe even inside you at all times. But such a wish is in vain.

You fall off the edge and you fall fast. He's apparently right behind you. Colorful splotches appear at the edges of your vision and your entire body tense up in an almost painful cramp. You feel him pulsing inside of you, hear him growl loudly and though you can't see his face, your imagination is supplying you with a more than handsome image.

It's over all too quickly. You both fall limp in a tangled pile of arms and legs. Your chests heave with your breaths and absolutely everything feels heavy. Your arms fall to the side, and so does he. He's lying on his back beside you and your eyes are automatically drawn to him. His delicate pale skin is littered with little pearls of sweat, his eyes are closed and there's the slightest hint of a smile in the corners of his open mouth. He senses your stare and cracks an eye open to look at you. The frosty blue makes you both hot and cold at the same time. Now he's smiling.

He rolls onto his side, puts a finger over your lips, and smirks deviously. "Good pet" he says - a statement. You're his. His pet. His toy? You're off the high, so your thoughts are slowly coming back into place again. A total stranger had just strolled into your apartment and fucked your brains out. Literally.

He stands up to tuck himself in and adjust his clothing. You admire the toned muscles of his back as you slowly sit up. He turn his head to glance at you over his shoulder. Fear once again settles into your being - like it should. He would certainly kill you now that he'd done his deed. It's certainly surprising to see him smirk at you again.

Without a word, he walks out into the entrance hall, and you find yourself stumbling clumsily after him. You stop in the doorway, one hand on the door frame. Was he leaving? You didn't want to. You should call the police before he disappears. You really should. Sue him for intrusion, sexual harassment and rape. But could you?

With his hands in his pockets he turn around to face you. There's a knowing smirk on his face, and the icy eyes pierces your soul. If he doesn't have a murderous intent, what is his plan?

"Tuesday, same place, same time" he says, voice sweet as sugar caressing your now suddenly very fragile heart. You shudder, drowning in the dusky gravel. You don't even realize what you're doing before your lips touch his and his arm wrap lightly around your waist. The kiss is brief, soft as silk and it's over all too quickly. His smile is cunning as he turns to leave. Your hand linger on his back.

"I'll wait" you whisper into the air. His snicker is sugarsweet and melts your entire soul. You can't stop staring, mouth hanging open. There's a ripple in his skin just before those black tendrils cover his body to reform the hoodie and jacket he'd previously worn. And then he disappears into the darkness of the hallway.

_Fuck._

You've just been fucked by and fallen for a monster. You know he is. A monster that has killed thousands. Maybe millions. The monster of Manhattan - Alex Mercer, the one and only.

As you fall face first into bed, however, you can't shake the feeling; you will long for and warmly welcome his next promised visit.


End file.
